


Things We've Both Forgotten

by peggycarter (anaklusmos)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaklusmos/pseuds/peggycarter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that is how their love story is written; one remembering, one forgetting, both falling in love again and again and again. They are drawn together, as though they are connected by an invisible thread. Many parts of their story have been forgotten forever by both, but that doesn’t matter to them when they are kissing or making love or finding joy in each other even in the darkest of times. </p><p>Or the one in which they help each other remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We've Both Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izzimb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzimb/gifts).



> I was writing an AU where a couple is reincarnated over and over again and take turns remembering when I realized that it fits Buckynat so well! Enjoy :)

They are both patchworks, a sum of different people they have become to survive, somehow stitched into one whole. Natasha fights using movements she learnt as a ballerina in the Bolshoi. James is fluent in Italian, years after he learnt the language when undercover in Vienna. They are both hundreds of half-complete people as well as two whole people who do not know where they fit in the world.

Their memories are similar. Natasha has a blurred memory of a woman with hair the colour of a fire in the night holding her, protecting her as a child. She also remembers being told that her mother died in childbirth, and Natasha has always been alone in the world. James remembers learning how to use a gun for the very first time, surrounded by men with American accents. He also remembers a man with a voice like steel speaking in unaccented Russian, teaching him how to kill from hundreds of metres away. What is real? What has been planted in their heads? Will they ever know?

They take turns remembering each other.

The first time James had his memory wiped, Natasha tries to ignore how her heart feels as though it’s shattering when he looks at her, his eyes uncharacteristically blank. She tries to avoid him, but they are assigned a mission together and everything is so tense and unfamiliar Natasha wants to scream. He doesn’t know her name, but he still kisses her like she is the sun and he is a planet that cannot help but be drawn into her orbit. She tells him about how they fell in love for the first time in hushed whispers as they make love, still high on the adrenaline of a successful mission. He doesn’t remember, but what she says sounds so familiar to him, like he’s watching a movie he once watched as a child.

And that is how their love story is written; one remembering, one forgetting, both falling in love again and again and again. They are drawn together, as though they are connected by an invisible thread. Many parts of their story have been forgotten forever by both, but that doesn’t matter to them when they are kissing or making love or finding joy in each other even in the darkest of times. The efforts of the KGB cannot keep them apart. That is, until Natasha runs away and the memories of everything but James make it past the last blockade they placed in her brain.

When they meet in Odessa neither of them remember each other.

When they fight in Washington, it’s like a dance they both know but don’t remember learning.

Here in the training area of the New Avengers facility, its James’ turn to remember.

Natasha is still taken aback by the silence with which he moves. When he enters the room, his footsteps are almost imperceptible. Almost.

 _“Want to spar?”_ he asks, and Natasha nearly misses the fact that he’s spoken in Russian.

“I’m not sure that’s the best thing for you, Bucky,” she says in English. A look of hurt crosses his face when he hears her calling him that, but it’s gone so quickly anyone less observant than Natasha might have missed it.

“I need to get rid of this pent up energy,” he says, “or I can’t sleep.”

“You could go jogging. Steve has gone through at least four pairs of shoes in the last month,” she says with a smirk. Her better judgement is telling her that sparring with someone as unstable as Bucky is possibly a bad idea, but she still heads to the sparring area.

When they fight, somehow they both know exactly what the other is going to do. Natasha lands a good kick to his stomach, and Bucky falls back with a small ‘oof.’

“Stop holding back,” he grumbles.

“I’m not. I just kicked you in the stomach,” she points out.

“Yes, but you can kick much harder.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says. Bucky may be much taller and physically stronger than her, but Natasha knows that she can beat him. Somehow she feels like she has beaten him before.

Bucky waves his hand dismissively. “You and I both heal much faster than others,” he says. Natasha has told very few people about the nature and extent of the ‘tests’ she underwent while she was a KGB agent, and how a near stranger like Bucky knows about it confuses her. After a moment’s deliberation, Natasha attacks again.

He is ready, and blocks her punch. He reaches his leg out to throw her off balance, but she turns the momentum into a spin and raises her leg to kick him. He stops the kick by grabbing her leg, and Natasha, anticipating this, vaults herself onto his shoulders and knocks him to the ground. She kneels above him, forearm to his throat, and grins. Despite just having been beaten, Bucky grins back. His eyes, Natasha notices, have flecks of gold in them. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are curved into a smirk so familiar it’s disorienting. As if she’s being drawn in by some invisible force, Natasha leans down and kisses him. The touch of his lips against hers sends sparks running through her whole body, like she has been anticipating this for her whole life. His hands hold her by the small of her back, his fingers drawing slow circles as they kiss. Everything about the kiss is so familiar, yet so thrilling, like she’s a giddy teenager in love. Natasha is suddenly his by a flood of memories, flowing out like water against a broken dam. She pulls away.

“James,” she whispers, _“I remember you.”_

Their love story has always been a dance of forgetting and remembering, but maybe now they can _both_ remember.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I edited this in a hurry. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> Also, check out Izzi's fics for more Buckynat!


End file.
